


Shiver

by deanlovescastielswormstache



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Adrenaline Kissing, M/M, Protests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanlovescastielswormstache/pseuds/deanlovescastielswormstache
Summary: It was then that it happened. People would later debate what caused the protest to go south, but Courfeyrac saw it. A rock, sailing in a perfect, heart-stopping arch, through the window of a local shop. For one moment, Courfeyrac felt eerily still, could hear his heartbeat, felt suspended through time as he waited to hear the crash. He only had a moment to himself which he used to think "Oh shit."





	Shiver

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt on Tumblr. Kissing + Adrenaline.

The protest had been going so smoothly before it all went to shit. The weather was beautiful, clear skies and a hint of a breeze to keep people cool. Courfeyrac had seen at least three signs with puns and Enjolras’ speech had been perfect. Courfeyrac’s heart was brimming at the sight of all of these people united under one goal and one desire: fighting injustice and standing up against oppression. Protests always made him like this; gave him a shock of adrenaline, made him feel like he was on top of the world and that together they could do anything.

It was then that it happened. People would later debate what caused the protest to go south, but Courfeyrac saw it. A rock, sailing in a perfect, heart-stopping arch, through the window of a local shop. For one moment, Courfeyrac felt eerily still, could hear his heartbeat, felt suspended through time as he waited to hear the crash. He only had a moment to himself which he used to think _Oh shit_.

Chaos broke out like a shockwave. Riot police had been waiting for any excuse to turn a somewhat peaceful, if aggressive protest, into a riot in order to discredit them. They descended into the crowd with their batons as protesters made the choice to fight the police or run. Courfeyrac’s eyes scanned the crowd, his heart torn, searching for his friends, for Combeferre, though he’d never admit that was who his mind conjured up immediately. They had all been rather close to him, but with people running in all directions to get away from the police, he could no longer see them. He hesitated his heart torn.

That’s when he spotted the halo of golden curls glinting up ahead, and he quietly thanked God that he had blessed their leader with such obnoxiously good looks that he could be spotted in the crowd. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Enjolras was not running away but was towards the front. Courfeyrac headed towards him, dodging and pushing those who were running against him. So much for feeling united as one people.

He ran into Bahorel first, who just grinned and said “I was hoping I’d get to punch someone today,” before plunging into the melee. Courfeyrac grinned; Bahorel’s glee was infectious. Even so, he kept his head down and headed towards Enjolras. As he was only a few minutes away, he came across Grantaire with his face bloodied, limping, held up by Eponine and Feuilly. It wasn’t a pretty sight. He didn’t seem to be completely there, muttering under his breath as his head lolled and Eponine swore up a storm.

“Is he okay?” Courfeyrac asked, his arm reaching out to Grantaire’s arm, to steady him, to tangibly assure himself that Grantaire would be okay.

Feuilly shook his head. “I don’t know what got into him, but he got pretty beat up. We’re heading to the hospital now.”

Courfeyrac nodded, letting out a breath of air. “Please text the group chat to keep us updated.” Feuilly nodded curtly, and both he and Eponine dragged a still-mumbling Grantaire. Courfeyrac swore under his breath. Grantaire’s lack of care for himself was going to get him killed someday.He forged ahead, not hesitating to throw some elbows to get to Enjolras.

And then Enjolras was before him, trembling with rage, and a fire in his eyes. He saw Courfeyrac and his expression became slightly more human, the fire in his dimming slightly as concern shadowed his face. “Have you seen Combeferre? Or any of the others?” Courfeyrac asked, heart stuttering in his chest.

Enjolras frowned. “I thought Combeferre would be with you. And I’ve only seen Bossuet and Joly heading out of here before Bossuet’s luck starts to take effect. Have you seen any of the others?”

Courfeyrac let out a pent-up breath of frustration, trying not to let panic fog his thoughts. “I saw Bahorel, he’s kicking up a storm. Grantaire got hurt pretty bad; I saw Feuilly and Eponine heading towards the hospital with him.”

Enjolras’ expression did something curious, something Courfeyrac would tease him about or examine further if they were not in the middle of a violent mass and Combeferre was missing. “Grantaire was hurt?” Enjolras bit out the words. “I thought he would stay away from all this. It’s all my fault for pushing him to go.”

“You can hardly blame yourself. Grantaire is a grown man, and he has some self-destructive tendencies. It can’t really come as a surprise to you that he followed you into the fray.”

Enjolras looked confused at that, hesitant, torn. It was a new look for him. Courfeyrac wasn’t sure how he felt about it. “You just go to the hospital and find him. I’m going to keep looking for Combeferre. Please check the group chat and answer your phone if I call.”

Enjolras nodded sharply, taking one last lingering look around at the chaos before slipping towards the back of the crowd. Courfeyrac watched him go, before he carefully pulled out his phone, making sure not to get jostled by the people around him, heading out of the crowd himself as he scrolled through his messages. Nothing from Combeferre and no mention of him in any of his texts. Courfeyrac closed his eyes, took a deep breath to center himself, and hit Combeferre’s name on his phone, putting it up to his ear as he headed away from the center of the crowd, his heart in his throat as it kept buzzing and buzzing. No answer. Courfeyrac swore and tried again, stopping in the middle of the road as his entire being listened to those steady buzzes.

That’s when he saw him. Combeferre, his ridiculous sweater sleeves rolled up to show the tattoo underneath, his hair ruffled and his glasses askew as he was desperately looking through the crowd. Courfeyrac didn’t even acknowledge the fact that he was running, he just registered the fact that he had to be as close to Combeferre as possible, ascertain the red on his knuckles was not his own blood.

Combeferre’s eyes snapped to his, and in that moment, Courfeyrac knew that he was going to kiss Combeferre. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. Courfeyrac’s body slammed into Combeferre’s, followed shortly by his lips, crashing up against Combeferre’s. It was by no means perfect. It was messy, and sweaty, and Courfeyrac’s hands were tangled in Combeferre’s hair and his calves hurt from standing on his tiptoes but it didn’t matter because Combeferre’s slightly chapped lips were on his and his big hands were on Courfeyrac’s waist and his stubble was scraping Courfeyrac’s cheeks and he couldn’t breathe.

He pulled away, reluctantly, tilting his head to look up into Combeferre’s eyes. “Sorry,” Courfeyrac murmured. “I was just so worried about you. I wasn’t thinking.”

Combeferre’s eyes twinkled and the right corner of his mouth pulled up into a shy smile as he reached down and intertwined their hands. Courfeyrac’s blood rushed through his veins, and he felt light headed at his closeness to Combeferre, at the adrenaline pumping his heart and the tingling in his lips at the memory of Combeferre’s. “Courfeyrac, I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time. I just never had the courage.

Courfeyrac giggled, a giddy feeling rushing through him as those words sunk into him. “The feeling is mutual.” Combeferre raised his left hand to cup Courfeyrac’s face, his thumb brushing across Courfeyrac’s lower lip. Courfeyrac shivered.

Courfeyrac’s phone rang, interrupting the moment. Courfeyrac pulled away. “I have been yelling at people all day to answer their phones, so if I don’t answer now…”

“You’ll never hear the end of it,” Combeferre finished for him grinning. “Go ahead, we have all the time in the world.” His hand slipped down his arm, but he did not let go of their intertwined hands. And Courfeyrac knew that they did.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by Lucy Rose. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://pucks-and-pies.tumblr.com) or on my [Les Mis blog](http://permets-tu-not-permettez-vous.tumblr.com).


End file.
